


King Under the Mountain

by Freedoms_Champion



Series: Burglar Lessons [7]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bard just wants to sleep, Good Uncle Thorin, Kili and Fili live, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Political Alliances, Thorin is a good king, Thranduil behaves himself, elves refuse to come into Erebor, loving head bonks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedoms_Champion/pseuds/Freedoms_Champion
Summary: Thorin thought he knew a thing or two about negotiating alliances.Turns out he still has a lot to learn. If Bilbo wasn't there, he might have punched Thranduil by now,
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: Burglar Lessons [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924351
Comments: 1
Kudos: 98





	King Under the Mountain

“Thorin! Someone’s coming to the Front Gate!”

The shout broke Thorin’s concentration on the work of sorting useful things out of the mess Smaug had left behind. He dusted his hands, which did nothing to actually clean them, and strode to the gate to see what was happening. He’d left Bilbo on watch, knowing the hobbit wasn’t built for heavy labor like moving endless piles of treasure or clearing fallen stone.

Weak winter sunlight glinted in Bilbo’s coppery curls, making Thorin’s heart skip a beat. He’d lived his life surrounded by all the things held precious by the races of Middle-earth and the hobbit was still the best of everything he’d seen.

“Well, what do you see?” he asked, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand.

Bilbo pointed to a small group trudging up the road. Thorin looked closer, but his eyes weren’t as keen as Bilbo’s, accustomed as he was to living deep underground. It was several minutes before the group came close enough for him to make out useful details. Once he did, he took off running from the gate.

“Fili! Kili!”

Thorin grabbed both boys in a hug and squeezed, unable to care that it wasn’t like him. The days since Smaug had flown away, he had been sure they were dead like so many of the people of Erebor. Knowing the dragon was dead hadn’t been much of a comfort, though it carried the hope that his nephews might be alive. He hadn’t dared believe it until he saw them with his own eyes.

Stepping back, he checked them for injuries. Kili’s wounds were healing and he looked much better than when Thorin had been forced to leave him behind. Fili was unharmed, only weary and stained with soot from the fires.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin whispered, touching his forehead to theirs in succession. “It was reckless to treat you as I did.”

“Thorin, you did your best,” Fili replied. “We’ve accomplished our goal! Leave what happened in the past.”

“What happened to you, uncle?” Kili added, frowning with worry. Thorin smiled.

“More than I could tell you at the moment. When time allows, I’ll tell you.” Turning, he greeted Oin and Bofur properly. Neither of them was worse for wear and it eased his heart to see them. Finally, he looked to the last members of their little group.

He remembered them, though Thorin’s memory for humans was hardly reliable. Bard’s son and oldest daughter offered clumsy bows. Both of them looked older than they had less than a month ago. Thorin felt a swell of compassion for them.

“Come, all of you. It’s warmer inside.”

“Our town is destroyed,” Bain finished his tale. His cheeks flushed, but he raised his head proudly and delivered his words directly to Thorin. “We speak no word of blame to you and your Company, King Under the Mountain. My father only asks that you remember your pledge of friendship to the Men of the Lake. Winter is coming swiftly.”

“I do remember it,” Thorin replied, treating the boy as gravely as he would have Bard. “Tell your father to bring your people to me. We have no food for you, but the Mountain is sheltered and warm enough. Together, we may find a way to survive the winter. After that, you will have the help of my people to rebuild Esgaroth and Dale. Gold and workmen, I promise you.”

“We stand in your debt, sir,” Sigrid said, rising to bow as low as she could.

“As I do in yours.” Thorin returned the bow from his seat. “Bard slew the dragon and I shall not forget it. Dwalin, take them back to their father and carry my word along with their account.”

Dwalin bowed and ushered the children away, wrapping them with cloaks to keep them warm.

“Balin, ask the ravens if they will carry word to Dain,” Thorin said to his advisor. “We will have need of his aid as quickly as he can give it.”

“Aye, laddie. He’s not likely to be happy when he hears what you’ve done.”

“I care nothing for his happiness, only his support,” Thorin said. The words carried little venom, though. His cousin had done what he deemed right and Thorin couldn’t blame him for it. Still, he would need help to carry out his plan to restore Erebor, now that there was a chance it would actually work.

For the rest of the day, Thorin busied himself with clearing out enough room for the people of Laketown. By the time the daylight was dying, he felt they had finished and headed to the side room that had become the gathering place of the Company. It was set back from the gate enough to avoid the chill drafts, but close enough for them to keep watch.

As he entered, Dwalin shook out his cloak, clearly just returned.

“What news from Bard?” Thorin asked, clapping the older dwarf on the shoulder.

“You won’t like it, Thorin. The elves have come from Mirkwood. They say they’ve come to aid the Men, but you know what their word is worth. Thranduil wants something, it’s obvious.” Dwalin crossed his arms and scowled.

Thorin wanted to emulate him, but he knew he had to keep his head clear of old resentments. However much he hated the Elven-king, they needed help more. Still, his blood boiled until Bilbo tugged his arm.

“Sit down, Thorin,” he said quietly and Thorin obeyed with a brief smile.

“If Thranduil wishes to offer the Lake-Men supplies against winter, I say let him,” he said. Grumbling rippled through the room, but no one spoke against him. “It’s true they offered us no help when Erebor fell, but it is possible Thranduil had a change of heart. There are things he desires in the Mountain; he told me so himself, but I will not be the one to spurn his generosity when it comes to light. We may be rich, but we are not in a position to reject help when we and the Lake-Men will starve without it.”

“But the elves imprisoned us!” Gloin growled. A few of the others rumbled agreement. Thorin looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his followers one by one.

“They did. Without reason or question, they put us into their dungeon. We escaped, thanks to the cleverness of our burglar. I know our people do not forgive a wrong, but I am asking you to try. A grudge will not feed you in the long months ahead of us.”

“Thranduil’s heir fought the Orcs alongside us in Laketown,” Fili added, as the silence stretched. “Perhaps he can temper his father’s nature. If our peoples could work together then, it can be done again.”

Thorin saw a few heads nodding in agreement and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Funny, how he hadn’t considered how much Fili and Kili were growing up. Both of them were beginning to show a wisdom beyond their youth.

He wished they could have been children as long as possible, but there was no doubt he would need as much wisdom as he could get in the days ahead.

The Elves refused to come closer to Erebor than the ruins of Dale, but Thranduil rode through the gate at Bard’s side. The Lake-Man looked uncomfortable astride a horse, but there was still a quiet dignity about him and Thorin finally realized what had been so familiar about Bard when they first met. The blood of Dale’s masters had not abandoned him, no matter how much he had tried to hide it.

“The Master of Laketown did not survive Smaug,” Bard said in an undertone as Thorin helped him direct the weary people to their shelter. “I should warn you, Alfrid is still alive and stirring trouble.”

“Thank you,” Thorin replied, just as quietly. “We’ll be wary of him.”

Bard smiled.

Hours later, Thorin faced Thranduil. He made sure to have Bilbo at his side, knowing that he couldn’t trust himself to remain polite.

“I congratulate you for reclaiming your homeland,” the Elven-king said, inclining his head slightly.

“Thank you. It would not have been possible without Bard of Esgaroth’s valor and friendship,” Thorin replied. “He tells me you have offered aid to those who lost everything to the dragon fire. Most gracious of you.”

“Indeed. And Bard told me that you had opened the Mountain as a refuge. Have Dwarves changed so much in exile?”

“I keep the vows I have made,” Thorin got out through gritted teeth. Bilbo gripped his hand, the gesture half-hidden in the folds of the robe Balin had insisted Thorin wear. It helped him relax slightly.

“I see.” Thranduil briefly widened his colorless eyes, making them flash in the firelight.

Thorin could see Bard seated closer to the fire, not quite beside either of them. He wished the weary Man could sleep knowing his children were safe, but he was the leader of his people now and was required to attend this meeting.

“Does the friendship of the Forest hold or will you depart and leave us?” Thorin asked. Thranduil had lapsed into silence and Thorin was not patient enough to allow elven musing to run its course.

The Elven-king looked sharply at him for a moment, but Thorin could see his delicate nostrils flare as he took a deep breath.

“My friendship with the people of the Lake is of long standing. The food we promised them is theirs. May stronger ties be formed between the Mountain and the Forest. It would please me. Now that the dragon is vanquished, it falls to all the powers of this land to ensure that nothing worse takes his place.”

“Do you expect further conflict?” Bard broke in. “Orcs attacked my children in our home before Smaug came. Will more of them come to take the Mountain?”

“It would be foolish to expect otherwise,” Thorin replied reluctantly. He wanted more than anything to live through the winter without more problems, but he knew war was coming. “I have an enemy, Azog the Defiler. His forces were the enemies your family faced. I have no doubt he will raise an army to take the Mountain out of greed.”

“Dwarves make better neighbors than dragons and goblins,” Thranduil said. A note of resolve entered his languid voice. “My warriors will stand with the force assembled here, should war come.”

“Good. I have sent word to Dain in the Iron Hills. I do not ask him for an army, but it may be that he has heard news we have not. Help is coming.”

“My people will fight, but we are not warriors,” Bard said, shaking his head. “We have lived in the shadow of Smaug. It may be too late to wake the courage we buried.”

“Courage comes in the darkest places,” Bilbo said unexpectedly. “I found mine at the roots of the Misty Mountains, alone and in the greatest peril I had faced in my life. Your people will find theirs, Bard. I believe it.”

Bard smiled gratefully.

Thranduil must have seen the exhaustion on his face, because he stood.

“We will speak at greater length when more news has come,” he said and bowed slightly. “I must return to my people in Dale, King Under the Mountain.”

Thorin inclined his head and the tall elf swept out of sight. Bard bade them good-night and left as well. His footsteps on the stone faded, but Thorin made no move to rise. Bilbo smiled at him.

“That went well. It could have been worse.”

“Aye, but how many more meetings lie ahead? My temper is not sweet enough to bear with Thranduil until spring,” Thorin said. He lifted his free hand and rubbed his forehead.

“Gandalf will come back. He can deal with Elves and Men and armies of goblins. We just have to hold on for it. Don’t worry about the days to come, Thorin. You can’t control how they unfold by wearing yourself thin.”

“Did you teach Fili and Kili some of your wisdom?” Thorin asked, touching his forehead to Bilbo’s.

“Not likely. Neither of them will listen to Hobbit sense. You’re done enough for one day, Thorin.”

Bilbo tugged him away and Thorin let him, marveling once again that he had been lucky enough to find a love so determined to see to his well-being. It was a good thing, too. He had a feeling he would be too busy in the coming days to care much for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Comments are welcome and have a spectacular day!


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